Chapter 40 Chapter 40: Shot in a coma

The force of the impact sent Thomas backward, spun in a circle, and fell face-down, hitting his nose on the ground.Somehow, amidst the pain and the dull buzzing in his ears, he heard another shot, then a grunt and a punch, and then the crackle of metal hitting cement. He turned over and lay on his back, his hands clutching the place where he had been shot; he mustered up the courage to look at the wound.The buzzing in his ears got louder, and he could only notice out of the corner of his eye that the blond had been pinned to the ground.Someone was beating him fiercely, as if he was going to beat him to death.

It's Minho. Thomas finally saw the wound, and what he saw there made his heart beat twice as fast. There was a small hole in his shirt, revealing a bloody, bright red gash, just above his armpit where the flesh was more, and blood was gushing from the wound.It hurts, it hurts badly.If he had had enough headaches downstairs, it felt like three or four times that pain, everything shattered into a sharp pain in his shoulder, and it went on and on. spread to other parts of his body. Newt was beside him, looking down at him with worried eyes. "He hit me," blurted out, adding a new line to the list of the dumbest things he's ever said, and number one.The pain was like metal staples being driven into his guts alive, their sharp points pricking and scratching, and he felt like his mind was stuck for the second time that day. In the dark.

Someone handed Newt a shirt, which he pressed tightly against Thomas' wound.The act brought him another pang of heart-pounding pain; he cried out, not caring how cowardly and useless he would look.He had never felt such pain before, and the world around him darkened a bit. Pass out, he begged to himself, please pass out, let this pain pass quickly. The voices came from far away again, as if he had been drugged and heard his own voice on the ballroom floor. "I could take that bullet out of him." It was Jorge's voice, standing out from all the others, "but I need fire."

"We can't do this here." Was that Newt's voice? "Let's leave this damn city." It must be Minho. "Okay, help me carry him." I don't know whose voice it was. A pair of hands gripped him from beneath him, and someone grabbed his leg.pain.Someone said something like count to three or something.pain.It really, really hurts.One, pain; two, ouch; three! He was lifted into the sky, and the pain exploded again, a wave of fresh pain. Then his wish to faint came true, and the darkness washed away all his worries. He woke up, his mind still bewildered.

The sun blinded him; he couldn't keep his eyes open all the way.His whole body was being pushed and bumped, and those hands were still holding him tightly.He heard breathing, heavy and rapid.The sound of feet on the pavement.Someone was shouting, though he couldn't understand the words.In the distance, there was the frantic scream of the delirious.Close enough that they're probably in pursuit. hot.The air is hot. His shoulders seemed to be on fire.Pain ripped through him like a series of poison bombs, and he fled into the darkness again. He opened his eyes slightly. This time the daylight was less intense, a golden twilight.He was lying on his back, the ground beneath him was hard.A rock was against his lower back, but it felt like heaven compared to the wound on his shoulder.People moved slowly around him, talking in short, tense whispers.

The lunatic's shriek of laughter became more distant, and he could see nothing but the sky above him, no buildings, and his shoulder was still aching.Ow, the pain. A flame danced somewhere nearby, sparks flying.He felt the wave of heat rushing over his body, the hot wind blowing through the hot air. Someone said: "You better put him down, legs and arms." Although his mind was still floating in a cloud of fog, these words did not sound very pleasant. A silver light flashed in his field of vision, was it the reflection of the setting sun on... the knife?Is it glowing red? "This will hurt a lot." I don't know who said it.

He heard a hiss, followed by what seemed like a billion pounds of gunpowder exploding all at once over his shoulder. His consciousness said goodbye to him for the third time. He felt that it took a long time to wake up this time, and when he opened his eyes again, the stars were shining like needles in the sun on the black sky, and someone was holding his hand.He tried to turn his head to look, but the movement triggered a new wave of pain that spread down his spine and throughout his body. He didn't need to look, it was Brenda. Who else but her?Besides, that soft and small hand must be Brenda.

The excruciating pain had been replaced, and for some reason he felt worse now, something like a disease crawling through his internal organs.A gnawing, itchy filthy thing.Something filthy, squirming like maggots in his veins, in the crevices of his bones and between his muscles, eating at him. It hurts, and the feeling now is more than just pain.The pain was deep and fresh.His stomach rumbled, and there was fire burning in his veins. He didn't know how he knew, but he was pretty sure of it, something was wrong. The word "infection" jumped into his mind and stayed there. He fell asleep in a daze.

The morning sunrise woke Thomas up, and the first thing he realized was that Brenda was no longer holding his hand.Then he noticed the cool morning air on his skin, giving him the briefest moment of pleasure. Then he became fully aware of the pain that was tormenting his body, which seemed to take root in every molecule of his body, and which no longer had anything to do with his shoulder or the gunshot wound.There was something wrong with all his systems, something terrible. Infect.It's that word again. He didn't know how he was going to get through the next five minutes, or the next hour.How could he survive the whole day?Then sleep and start the whole thing over again?Despair consumed him, a hollow, drowsy emptiness that threatened to pull him into a terrible abyss.A madness mingled with panic hit him.And over everything, is pain.

That's when things get weird. The others heard the voice before him, and Minho and all the others suddenly became confused, all looking for something, many scanning the sky.Sky?Why would they do that? Someone—Jorge, he thought—shouted, Berg ship. Then Thomas heard the voice, a low, monotonous sound, full of heavy thumps.Before he knew what was happening, the noise had grown louder, and before long the noise seemed to be inside his head, beating on his jaw and eardrums, traveling down his spine. rush down.A constant, steady beating, like the beating of the largest drum in the world; and behind everything, a great hum of heavy machinery.A gust of wind picked up, and at first Thomas feared another storm was about to start, but the sky was a clear blue.Not a single cloud could be seen.

The noise intensified his pain and made him faint again.But he held on, anxious to know where the sound was coming from.Minho shouted something and pointed to the north.Thomas was in too much pain to turn around and look.The wind grew stronger, whistling past him, tearing at his clothes.There was a cloud of dust and a thick fog in the air.Suddenly, Brenda came to him again, holding his hand tightly. She leaned down until her face was inches from his, her hair flying in all directions. "I'm sorry," she said, though her words were barely audible, "I didn't mean—I mean, I know you..." She pondered her words, looking away. What is she talking about?Why didn't she tell him what was making that horrible noise!He hurts so much... A strange horror spread across her face, her eyes were wide open, and her mouth was also open.Then she was pushed away by two people... At this moment Thomas felt a panic, two people, wearing strange clothes he had never seen before.A whole set of baggy dark green onesies—a line of words he didn't recognize was scrawled on the chest.Goggles obscured their faces.No, not goggles.Something like a gas mask.They look hideous, like aliens.They look evil, like giant, crazy man-eating insects wrapped in plastic. One of them grabbed his ankle, another put his hand under him and grabbed his armpit, and Thomas screamed.They lifted him up, and the pain ran through his body.He's almost used to the pain by now, but it feels worse this time.The pain was so overwhelming that he couldn't move. Then they moved, carrying him all the way, and for the first time, Thomas could focus his eyes on reading the line on the chest of the man at his feet. WICKED HQ. The darkness threatened to take him again, and he let it go, but the pain was taken with him.